Hers and His
by aguachica35
Summary: I am new to fanfiction so although this missing scene from Hole in the Heart has already inspired many wonderful stories I could not resist publishing the story that's been in my head since May.  Hope you enjoy!
1. Hers

HERS

"Can I just...". She hesitated, not sure if she was expecting more than was fair from him. But then, it was he who had insisted she stay at his apartment. She would have gladly stayed at the lab with Hodgins and Angela and the 10 FBI agents now staked out around the building. She hadn't been able to read Booth as well as she used to, but she still knew him well enough to know that he didn't insist she stay only for her safety. He had known that she'd need his shoulder to cry on, and now she was doing that, literally.

She had spent much of the night on the couch thinking about Vincent but also thinking that if this had happened seven months ago, right when she returned from Maluku, she would have responded in a completely different way. Was losing her imperviousness really worth it? Micah had told her that that feeling sad was better than being dead inside. Was that really true? She knew that for the two seconds after the shatter of glass filled the lab, before Booth had said, "we're fine" and she knew for sure that Booth was, she had never been so scared in her life. She also realized that if she'd lost Booth now the pain might not be something she could handle. Especially without Booth there to comfort her.

That was too much to think about alone on his couch, so instead she focused on Vincent. What had he said? "Don't make me go." He was looking at her and said, "don't make me leave." Why did he think that she wanted him to leave? She knew she wasn't always the easiest person to work with, Wendell had recently told her she was abrasive and Aristoo had insinuated that she was cold toward a child victim, but she had hoped that her most prized intern knew how much she valued him and wanted him to stay there at the lab, or at least to live.

The more she thought about it, the more concerned she became. What kind of person was she? It was late; maybe even early morning already but she just couldn't stop the thoughts. And then the thoughts became tears and she knew that the only person who could comfort her, help her work out these emotions was lying in a bed only 10 ft away. She got up from the couch, walked over to his room and opened the door.

She heard the click of the gun and instinctively raised her arms, knowing that she had woken him from a sniper sleep. Once the energy settled, she couldn't help but let everything out.

He reached out for her hand and without hesitation she let him pull her next to him on the bed. She felt so safe with his big hand wrapped around hers. Moments later there they were, lying on the bed together for the first time. She was still crying but she was also aware of how strong he was, it felt so good to have his arms wrapped around her. She slowed her breathing and relaxed into him. Their bodies pressed closer together and then she turned and looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

She felt a flutter in her stomach. She wasn't thinking when the words, barely above a whisper came from her mouth, "Booth, is this what love is?" Even though they came from her own mouth, she was so shocked that she almost bolted up and ran into the other room.

But before she had a chance to acquiesce to her strong flight response, he replied, "yes, that is exactly what this is."

The flutter evolved into an intense heat that was coursing throughout her entire body. She was no longer thinking, just doing and soon his soft lips were pressed against hers. She wasn't sure if he was kissing her or she was kissing him, but all she could think about was how right this felt. So she pushed the flight response down even further and didn't pull away but let the kiss grow deeper and more fervor. She felt his warm, strong hand moving up her back under the sweatshirt and wondered if he was going to stop or if he was waiting for her to stop so he wouldn't hurt her feelings. As much as she wanted to pull back, to check with him to make sure this was okay, she couldn't move away from him.

She was just thinking about how much she wanted to move on from the kissing but wasn't sure if he would let them without talking about what it meant to cross this line when he said, "Bones, I would very much like to make love to you."

Hearing him say her name, well technically her nickname and his special name for her, at the same time he was telling her he wanted to make love was almost too much for her rational mind to handle. Her animal instincts took over. She sat up and pulled the sweatshirt over her head. She saw his eyes twinkle with excitement and then he reached up and touched her.

She gasped and couldn't wait any longer. Gently, but forcefully she pulled his clothes off piece by piece until they were both naked. She had seen him naked before but this time she took the time to study him closely, moving her eyes up and down his body until she had taken everything in. Her gaze settled on his face where she thought she detected a slight anguish in his brown eyes. As though perhaps he was worried she might decide to jump up and leave.

She didn't. Instead she leaned down and kissed him, caressing his face and moving closer and closer to him. Being with him was both passionately new and comfortably familiar. She let him lead and then he led her, exploring each other with vigor and delight.

When it happened for her, that release of love and energy that had waited so many years to escape was like nothing she had ever experienced. They fell onto their backs and she said, "I was right, that was quite satisfying."


	2. His

HIS

"Yeah, that's why I'm here." And that's why you're here, he thought. When he'd told her earlier in the day that she would be staying at his house that night it was only partly out of concern of her safety. He knew that she would respond to the day's events in one of two ways; she would retreat into hyper-rationalism or she would allow herself to feel emotions in a way she never had before and break down.

Later that night, when the adrenaline stopped surging through him so he could clearly see her standing in his doorway, eyes glistening with tears, he was relieved. While he didn't want her to be in pain, he knew that given the other option, that was what he had hoped for.

But while she was allowing herself to feel emotion, her very literal brain was still stuck on Vincent's words as he took his last breath. Booth pulled her toward him, gently at first, grabbing her hand and encouraging her to sit next to him on the bed. In all of the years he had known her, he had never seen her so emotional. He realized this was the last of her imperviousness slipping away. So when she asked if they could just lay in bed together, even though he knew that crossed the line, he let it happen.

He held her tight, stroking her arm as she buried her face in his chest, body heaving as she tried to control her sobs. It was the closest they had been in a long time, and in many ways it was the closest they had ever been. He felt a warm rush having her so close, his head was swimming with thoughts but his body was reacting too. He was starting to recite his list of saints when she took three deep breaths and turned her head to look up at him. Her eyes were red from crying but the clear blue pierced through him. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She smiled her crooked half-smile back at him.

"Booth," her voice just above a whisper, "is this what love is?"

"Yes, that is exactly what this is."

She lifted herself up enough so that they were eye to eye. And then at the same time, as though a magnetic force was pulling them together without either of them leading or following, they kissed. He felt an afflux of heat through his body he had felt only once before, the first time they had kissed outside of the pool hall. This time she didn't pull away. And he didn't pull away. All he could think about was how right this felt. He was running his hand up her back, losing himself in the softness of her skin when a desperate thought flashed across his mind, did they need to talk about this first? Should he check in to make sure she was okay with this? Was it a mistake to do this immediately after losing Vincent? But even as the questions swirled through his brain he had to accept reality - they had already gone too far. They were in his bed. She was only wearing a sweatshirt, his sweatshirt. They were kissing, passionately. It was too late to reevaluate the situation. It was too late to give either of them a reason to stop. A reason to say something that might be misunderstood and send them back to Maluku and Afghanistan.

So he settled on, "Bones, I would very much like to make love to you."

She responded by pulling the sweatshirt over her head to reveal the one part of her he had ached to see, to touch, for so long. All of the glimpses, in the Wonder Woman costume, Vegas outfits, Russian circus costume, her formal dresses, that one shirt she wore sometimes, not any of them could have prepared him for the real thing. She was curvy and perfect, a dream, really. But better than a dream because this was really happening. They were in his bed. And now she was sitting on top of him naked. For a second, he caught himself wondering if this was real. Had he been shot instead of Vincent? Was he in another coma, his brain simply processing a book she was reading? He reached up and touched her just to be sure.

She gasped, eyes bright in the early morning light now streaming through the blinds. She grabbed at his shirt and his pants until he was also naked. Then she stilled for a moment and he saw her take everything in as only she could. Her scientific eyes roaming up and down his body. He waited for her to comment on his perfect illium or cranium or some such thing but instead she just studied him, as if she was giving herself one last moment to take it all in or maybe, he feared, one last opportunity to change her mind. For a moment he thought she might jump up and leave. But instead she moved toward him.

And then just as if this was the most natural thing for them, something they had done 100 times before, they joined. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm for what seemed like an eternity. Taking turns leading and following and ravishing one another.

When it happened for him, that release of love and energy that had waited so many years to escape was like nothing he had ever experienced. They fell onto their backs and he said, "I was right, this is fate."


End file.
